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Here It Comes

November 20, 2024 //
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I woke tired from a restless night of strangely lively surreal dreams. My walk felt short, and rushed. My day already feels busy and “crowded” with things that must get done before daybreak tomorrow, and the start of a few days of downtime spent attending to my emotional needs, and indulging artistic inspiration. Self-care is important and worth the time commitment to get a few things done so I can be away without concern, but… good grief I feel so busy right now.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s the start of the workday, and looks to be an easy one. Routine, at least. Then home early enough to take my Traveling Partner to an appointment, then a quick shopping trip, then make (and enjoy) dinner, then pack (omg I should have worked from home today) and load the car, then, if there’s still time, a little time spent just chilling with my partner enjoying the last of the evening. Yeah, it feels like a busy day, but I’ve got a plan, and it’s not really “all that” – it just feels busy. Another breath. Another moment.

I’m in so much pain lately. A few days to myself to sit with that without also feeling like I’ve got to mask it to avoid making everyone around me uncomfortable will be a nice “luxury”. There’s more stress than I want to admit in having to “put a good face on it” when I hurt like this. Pain relief measures only do so much, and I’m not willing to take (nor am I prescribed) the quantities of painkillers it would take to shut down this amount and intensity of my personal combination of arthritis and headache pain. It is what it is. I’m also not willing to let pain call my shots or totally wreck my experience; there’s more to life than the pain I’m in. I remind myself often. Sometimes it helps, sometimes it just annoys me. Sometimes being annoyed about it helps in its own way. My Traveling Partner endures his own pain. Hell, even the Anxious Adventurer deals with pain – and frankly, most people do, to some extent, I guess. The challenge is not being a dick about it, and doing the most we each can to go ahead and live a good life in spite of the pain we’re in, and to remain mindful that we can’t possibly fully understand the pain someone else is in. Ever. Even if they say. We just can’t know their experience the way they do. So…I try to manage mine, and mostly keep it to myself. It’ll be nice to have a couple days to just sit and weep over it, while I paint, if that’s where it takes me, and not be worried that anyone else will be affected by those tears, or my pain.

Beyond the pain, I’m looking forward to a couple days of watching the tide come and go, and sitting with my thoughts – and my grief – and just “getting my head right” in my own way. The holidays are coming. The first in decades that my Dear Friend won’t be part of that experience in any way. That hurts more than I expected it to. No need to think about what to send her. No need to share anecdotes or pictures. No need to message her on Giftmas morning so she doesn’t experience the morning alone. No need to delight her with my curiosity about what my Traveling Partner may have gotten me, or made me, this year. She’s just…not here. My sorrow tries to swamp me every time I remember, and I really need to get past that somehow. It’s a lot. Granny? Gone, too. And Mom. And my long-gone girlfriend, T. There are unshed tears waiting their turn to fall, and I need to allow myself time for that this year.

I’m eager to hit the road, and hit the trail. Eager to walk my own path and feel my feelings (there’s no shame in these honest tears). I’m eager to begin again on the other side; the way out is through.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, grief, health, inspiration, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, women

Making Changes

November 16, 2024 //
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I’m sipping the last of my now-mostly-cold coffee, after my morning walk, and before I head to breakfast with a friend I don’t see often. I’m thinking about life and love and things of that sort. I’m thinking over conversations with my Traveling Partner, and our earnest mutual commitment to the life we share and the love we feel for each other.

… I’m thinking about how much actual work it is to create the life we want to enjoy with each other, and how much work it also takes to create a world worth living in…

What are you actually doing to “be the change”? What kind of experience of community and family do you want to enjoy? What are you doing to make that a reality? Yes, you. I sit with these questions myself. They seem worth answering.

When people decry “woke” culture, what are they actually objecting to? Because it’s become some kind of buzzword or verbal shortcut, I think examining the intention behind it sometimes gets overlooked. Isn’t racial equality a good thing? Isn’t gender equality a good thing? Don’t we want everyone to have access to good healthcare regardless of the neighborhood they live in, the color of their skin, their gender, or religion? Of what possible relevance is a person’s sexual preference or marital status when they are seeking healthcare, housing, or a seat in a restaurant? When people shout down “being woke”, are they making a frank admission that they are comfortable with a very non-equal society, of the sort that explicitly disadvantages and “others” some people? Who gets to decide who is “in” and who is “out”?  It’s on my mind. Maybe for obvious reasons (as we all watch the clown car of the new administration fill up, in the background of our lives).

I sigh and bring my thoughts back to matters closer to home. How do I do my own humble best to be a good partner? A good friend? A good community member? I definitely have room to grow. It’s never too late to get a little closer to being the person I most want to be. There’s a lot to consider and probably a few good opportunities to make changes in how I approach conflict resolution, boundary setting, and communication. I’m no saint. I’m often in tremendous pain, more than I’m inclined to complain about. Sometimes I’m just fucking exhausted, with much still left to do that simply has to get done. “Doing my best” is all I can do, and realistically sometimes it doesn’t get everything done – or done in a way that I could celebrate. I’m very human. Prone to temper and moments of irritability. My cPTSD is pretty well-managed, but it’s still lurking in the background. My brain injury is many years (decades) behind me, but I’ve got some brain damage that I still have to work around day-to-day. “My best” has limitations, and my results vary. How do I do more, better?

I sit with my thoughts. Self-reflection is a useful tool. Practicing self-care improves my chances to be the best version of myself. Practicing gratitude, non-attachment, and loving kindness help me create and maintain a resilient and positive mindset. I breathe, exhale, and relax. This human life is quite an interesting journey. So many verbs. So much work to do.

I watch daybreak become a new day. I’m fortunate to have this moment, and so many opportunities to grow toward being the person I most want to be. Feels like a good time to begin again.

What will you do with your moment? Where does your path lead?
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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

A Life Hack and A Practice

November 14, 2024 //
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I left the house before dawn, and it was raining pretty steadily. It had been raining through the night. I rarely sleep in, but it’s a day I’ve planned to work from home, so waking up early wasn’t really necessary. I “slept in” 15 minutes, still waking quite early. It’s a habit more than a practice.

It’s raining…skip the walk? No; I value the routine, and it’s time well-spent thinking, meditating, or writing, anyway. “Me time”.  I dress and slip away quietly (I hope).

The life hack? Having a comfortable routine that meets my needs. By the time I reached the trailhead the rain had stopped (at least for now). Hardly seems like much of a “life hack”, but in our high distraction, “everybody wants a piece of me” world, having a healthy routine that meets our own needs is uncommon, and requires a bit of work to refine, establish, and maintain. Worth it, though. I sigh contentedly as I lace up my boots. The pale gray clouds against the night sky separate as they drift onward, revealing the stars. Beautiful. Peaceful.

The practice? Non-attachment! I could have arrived to this place in a drenching downpour, unsuited to an easy morning walk. I’d have had to make choices, what to do with the circumstances and my moment could require a thoughtful change. That’s only frustrating and annoying if I cling to expectations of a specific outcome. Choosing to practice non-attachment and commit only to healthy self-care more generally is so much less stressful than having to cope with disappointment first thing in the morning, almost before I’m completely awake.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Lovely morning for a walk, although the sun hasn’t yet risen, and daybreak is not yet here. I’m okay with that. I pull my headlamp and rain poncho out of my backpack, grateful to be prepared. I’m ready.

Time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets

The Hard Start

November 12, 2024 //
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I got to the trailhead still seething with irritation. I didn’t sleep well. It’s raining, too, hard enough to discourage walking the marsh trail. I sit with my thoughts and my discontent awhile.

…Short work week and already off to a bad start. Shit…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I work on letting small shit stay small. I remind myself that taking someone else’s emotional bullshit personally is counter productive – and also not necessary. I practice non-attachment, and letting all that go. I pull myself into this quiet calm moment, present with (and for) myself.

I remind myself that the “hard start” to the morning doesn’t have to become the whole day.

Another breath. A moment of perspective. An opportunity to reflect in a still, solitary moment. A chance to begin again. It’s enough.

… Let’s see where this path leads…

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Categories anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being

Listening to the Clock Tick

November 10, 2024 //
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It’s a quiet morning. I’m sitting with my thoughts before my walk, and before the sun rises. I’m drinking coffee and thinking about how far I’ve come and what a strange journey life is.

About 14 years ago, my Traveling Partner nagged at me for being “so negative”. I worked hard to change my approach, and was pretty successful (especially after I got help through therapy). I found out much later he was intending to be critical only of the way I used language, not my attitude towards life! For example, my most common response to being asked how I was doing would have been, then, “not bad”, instead of “fine”, or “good”, or however I was actually doing. This was the specific thing he didn’t care for, and purely a matter of style. What I worked to change was my actual, legit fundamental negativity toward my experience of life, the lens through which I perceived all my experiences. I succeeded in making profound changes to the way I view and experience life. I’m glad I did, but I was puzzled and more than a little annoyed that what my partner had been criticizing was a matter of communication style, nothing more.

Hilariously (in a funny/not funny sort of way), I now find deeply negative people – people whose outlook on life is chronically pessimistic, or always anticipating some shitty outcome – super irritating to have to be around for long periods of time. People who respond to circumstances with sarcasm and bitter disappointment before anything actually goes wrong vex me. I just don’t want to be around that all the fucking time. It’s exhausting. Doesn’t matter that I used to be one of those people, I’m generally not anymore, and I don’t really want to waste precious mortal hours being annoyed with life – nor with the people who are themselves annoyed with life. I have other shit to do.

I sigh to myself, stretching and working to ease my physical pain, before my walk on a chilly foggy autumn morning. It’ll be beautiful along the marsh trail. The quiet is lovely. Daybreak reveals the gray of the fog obscuring the view. The park gate groans and screeches as it opens, then clangs in place. I think to myself that I haven’t walked the river trail in a while, and change my plan. Change is. I smile to myself. We can’t know in advance what the outcome of a change may be. We can’t be assured that anyone else will appreciate a change we’ve made, however much it suits us. We can only do our best, walk our own path, and over time find out where that leads us. I’m content with being a more positive person day-to-day, inclined toward general optimism and joy, and leaning away from bitterness and disappointment. Life will surely dish out enough of that shit without me seeking it out or making a practice of it!

Untitled, 7″ x 9″ pastel on Pastelmat, 2024

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I contemplate the time I’ve spent painting since I switched to pastels. It’s fulfilling and healing time. Artistically, I’m in a good place as a human being. I’m enjoying the medium and the work I’ve been doing. I learn more every time I sit down to paint. I “feel heard” (at least by the woman in the mirror) every time I look at these new paintings. It’s a good feeling, satisfying and nurturing. Self-care comes in many forms. So does communication.

This mortal life is too short for negativity and bullshit. There’s so much to see and enjoy. I lace up my boots and grab my cane. I silently dare my pain to keep up with me. It’s time to begin again.

This path won’t walk itself!
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Categories anger, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, women, Words
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